I am the artist formerly known as Eddie Atrocity or Eddie Apocalypse---ex-model and punk rock protagonist. Now, pulled out from under the corpses of this world, I call myself John, after him who protects me. I am myself bound to the rebellion against the carnal, the desire of men, and the pseudo-religion birthed through the West and deception of the ever decaying modern man. I am part of the only existing true body of Him who is; and though He is a consuming fire, and I am only lowly, I am made worthy to be an icon of the Bush of old, burning without consumption. My organs become a container of He who is uncontainable. Should I ever utter another word from the mouth who has touched the Fashioner? For these things I will always face the East, searching for Him, Him who is the Sunrise of the East--The Bridegroom in Procession.
Behold Him generation who has not yet learned, Behold Him those blinded by pseudo-Christendom; for you proclaim a false christ. Behold His true bridal chamber.
Look only to the first-born from the dead.
It seems to me that bodily pleasure is like a rough file smeared with oil, which when the cat licks it up, it also licks with it the blood of its own tongue. Or it is like the fly in the honey that tastes a certain sweetness but at the same time it is entrapped in the honey and dies. Pleasure is also the bait that is superficially sweet, but when swallowed, brings about a painful death.
+Monk Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain (18th century)
